


with longing for a girl

by Cicadaemon



Series: Assassin's Creed Collection [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22123171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cicadaemon/pseuds/Cicadaemon
Summary: Brasidas can't get his mind off a certainmisthos.
Relationships: Brasidas/Kassandra (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Assassin's Creed Collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462984
Comments: 14
Kudos: 117





	with longing for a girl

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bound by Stardust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20076250) by [Cicadaemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cicadaemon/pseuds/Cicadaemon). 



> Based on a quick reference I made in 'Bound by Stardust' chapter 5

For all the trouble the city had been, Brasidas really liked Korinth. The city always seemed to smell of sea salt, even far from the harbour. There was barely any presence that would suggest a war was going on, and he felt at ease within it's walls. It had been easy for him to listen and obey Anthousa’s suggestion of stay for the party she wanted to hold.

“You robbed me of a public display of his death.” Her smile was saccharine and hallow. “So, let us have a celebration of his death instead. I suppose Korinth will have to just be happy with that.”

Kassandra had given him a smile at that. He could never thank her enough for siding with him and acting in the best interest of Sparta. Her smile had disappeared the second Anthousa promised to loan her some fabric and she had whined to him that she was tired of playing dress-up.

He had shoved it all out his mind, the party and the notion of Kassandra in dress. There was so much work to do between then and there. Documents to write, people to inform, and papyrus to burn. When the day had come, night had fallen and Brasidas was all groomed and prepared for the celebrations, he had completely forgotten about Kassandra.

Well, he hadn’t forgotten about her (she had ravaged his mind since he had met her a week previous, scarcely leaving his thoughts for more than a few minutes), he had forgotten the condition to which she would be showing up.

He had entered the _porneion_ expecting nothing more than an elegant party that also doubled as good picking for the courtesans and instead found himself mesmerized by the brilliant colours and pungent smell of flowers and perfume. A Korinthian party indeed. It was easy to pick out which of the women were _hetaerae_ and who were just common courtesans; one being more vibrantly dressed than the other with mannerism not unlike Anthousa’s. Brasidas found the woman quite quickly. She had traded her simple, yet richly wrap chiton for an elaborate and even more richly attired. It appeared she even wore silk, something he had never really seen. Anthousa spotted him just as quickly, waving him down with her refined manner. She was obviously comfortable here, as this was her element. She stood out and seemed to thrive in it; well aware of what a beauty she was and the power it brought. Kassandra, on the other hand, looked downright uncomfortable.

His eyes hadn’t been on her immediately, but the second he realized that it was her his heart skipped a full beat. Where Anthousa was beautiful, Kassandra was radiant. Without the mix-matched armour she wore, he could fully see the strength in her body. Her biceps were thick and held three deep scars along the left one. The _peplos_ was cinched together with a cord of dark leather around her waist, draping over her hips in a way that made him feel sinful for looking. Every bit of him ached, taking in the sight before him. He knew Kassandra hated the comparison of Goddess, but with her clad in purple and gold she looked like Aphrodite, but far more divine.

“So glad you could join us, General.” Anthousa snapped him out of his spell, and he realized just how hard he had been staring at Kassandra, who wore a smirk on her face. “It took you long enough.”

He cleared his throat, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “Yes… I uh well I had much to take care of. Believe it or not, but Sparta does like a paper trail on these sorts of missions.”

“I didn’t know Spartans knew how to read.” Kassandra teased and he felt his face go red. It didn’t make sense why he was suddenly so affected by her. The _misthos_ that stood before him now was no different than the one before. Except he could see every delightful curve of body and wondered if her thighs were just a thick and strong as her legs-

“The _agoge_ makes a point of teaching boys not only how to write, but to read important literature to Spartan history.” The words felt like they were coming out of his mouth to fast as though to counter the invasive thoughts that plagued him. He didn't even know why he was defending himself when she was so obviously joking. “We-“

“I was just teasing.” She laughed. “I was cast out of Sparta just before I would have started my own education. I do know about the _agoge_ to a point.”

That made him pause. Brasidas had fallen into this trap of thinking himself an old man when in honesty he couldn’t have been more than 8 years her senior. Maybe less. That narrowing age gap somehow made his stomach flutter, as though this attraction he was feeling was now somewhat more justified.

“I hope the two of you enjoy this party,” Anthousa interjected, her smile a little too sly for comfort. “I must make my rounds. There are plenty of statesmen here and I want them to know the part I played in this.”

“I hope you put in a good word for Brasidas as well,” Kassandra said, giving him a quick look over. “It will make Sparta look better.”

Her smile went from sly to stiff, giving a curt nod. “Of course. I would think nothing less.” And with a bow, she was gone.

“I see why Alkibiades likes her so much,” Kassandra stated. “Opportunistic.”

“Much like you.” He said absently, but with the look she gave him, he realized how rude it was. “Well, you know what I mean. A _misthos_ has to be right?”

“I’m not saying anything against it. Come, we’ll sit in one of the alcoves and drink. Anthousa didn’t spare on anything and there’s a wine from Samos. Have you ever had Samian white?”

He wanted to say he had only ever been partial to wines of the Peloponnese, dry and sour, but the thought of getting drunk off of sweet wine _with_ her kept his tongue in check. “I’d like nothing more.”

The night whittled away and Brasidas found himself laughing more than he had in the last several years. They lounged on the fine pillows and rugs, drinking the sweet Samian wine, and Brasidas could easily say he had never felt so at ease since the war began. Korinth really was a sanctuary for him. The war itself was all erased from his mind the glow of her company. Kassandra kept him enraptured with accounts of bandits and wild bounties. She talked at length about Euboea and the cleansing of corruption. The more he drank, the giddier he felt, and he found himself wheezing at the story of Perikles symposium and the display the philosopher, Alkibiades made.

“Two goats!” She sang, ringing with laughter. “I swear by all the Gods I don’t know how I kept a straight face.”

He laughed so hard he began to snort which in turn made her laugh more. She placed a hand to his hip as though to ground herself and the shock of the touch ripped through him like fire. It was enough to ease his laughter and make his brain freeze.

That touch followed him for the rest of the night. His laughter no longer came easy and he felt uncomfortable hot; even stifled by the _himation_ he wore. She had reached out at one point, tugging on the fabric to tell him he looked good in wine red. "It suits you well." She had said with hooded eyes. Maybe it was the wine that was making his thoughts bolder, his eyes lingered on her longer and his thoughts became more wicked.

It felt as though she was eyeing him up too, her own actions sultrier than before. Was she actually flirting with him or was it his wine addled mind seeing what it wanted? And by the Gods he wanted it. It got to the point where when she gave a long lick to the bit of wine that had escaped down the side of her _kantharos_ his mind could not hold back on the image of her doing that to his cock; making the pit of his stomach twist in the most pleasurable way.

“I have to go.” He said suddenly. She looked to him confused. “I have to leave in the morning. I’m expected back in Sparta before being sent off again and I-“

“Off you go, mighty Spartan.” Her words were slightly slurred. She was beautiful and it made him ache so much. He had enjoyed this night so much beyond just lust. Kassandra was without a doubt the most wonderful person to talk to. “May we see each other again before long.”

“And may you find your _mater_.” He returned.

It was hard leaving her, but he found with each footstep he grew stronger. And as each grew stronger, somehow his thoughts did too. He couldn’t get the image of her licking the _kantharos_ out of his mind. The flat of her tongue would feel so good against him he decided, and how her lips would play around that pulse in his neck. How would it feel to have her scratch his back as he’d thrust into her unbridled? What noises would she make as he’d lap at her? What would she taste of?

It was a miracle he made it back to the camp in one piece. Even so late at night, men practiced with their spears and made idle chat by the fire, no eyes were thankfully on him. There were one or two men that recognized his presence with a soft repeat of his name, but nothing more.

He was grateful for the confines of his tent, and the knowledge no solider would dare disturb him. He was not kind in ripping the pit out of the fabric and getting it off as quickly as possible. He positioned himself quickly onto the small mattress and began to undo the knot on his loincloth. Having to bit down on his lip to keep from crying out, he quickly spits in his hand and wraps it around his cock. He is amazed he isn’t completely erect with how fervently those thoughts came to him.

He takes his time with, even though his body is screaming for a quick release. Squeezing his eyes tight, he can feel how much it builds up in his gut, almost too much to stand. He takes a moment to drag his thumb over the head of his cock, finally letting out a moan.

His thoughts come back to him then as he begins to inch closer and closer to release. He thinks of Kassandra and those thick arms. He imagines that it isn’t his own hand, but hers stroking him. The pretty and filthy words that would escape from her mouth as she’d encourage him to completion. She'd lick her fingers slowly if he spent too quickly, taking time on each finger and savouring the taste.

Or maybe she’d take him in her mouth, bobbing up and down at an excruciating rate. There would a moment where she would break to drag that tongue of hers along a vein, moaning as she’d lick his weeping cock.

And then suddenly hypothetical and thoughts are thrown away as something snaps within him. Brasidas bites the inside of his cheek hard enough that he’s tasting iron as he spends, covering both his fingers and stomach. Aware of his surroundings, he doesn’t cry out, but allows only the quietest of whimpers. He holds himself there for what feels like hours, trying to even out his breathing and clear his mind. But those thoughts don’t take any time to come back, but this time it’s the idea of what it would feel like to kiss her. That soft mouth that would have been on him now pressed to his lips, kissing him softly and slowly. She'd sigh and he'd press a kiss to her forehead to thank her. A smile comes to his face as the image of lying beside her in bliss, holding her tight and stroking those wonderful arms with his fingers.

But reality calls, and it is sticky. He takes the time to clean up his mess and acknowledge the other mess he made when he had thrown his _himation_ off. He gives the fabric a good pet before putting it away, the beautiful red with its intricate patterns as a gift from his father.

“You never know when you will be invited to parties as you conquer for Sparta.” His _pater_ had laughed. Tellis had all the faith that his son would bring glory to their home. He wonders as he puts it away if he would approve of this infatuation with Kassandra?

Then, he remembers all of a sudden that Kassandra is not just a _misthos_ but the disgraced child of the Wolf of Sparta, who had killed an _ephor_ in an attempt to save her brother. Sparta might not welcome her back, even if he is optimistic.

He mulled on the thought as he slipped between the sheets on how his parents would react to it all. His _mater_ would be hypercritical of course, though she would be pleased at the idea of any heirs being descendant from Leonidas. The thought gets shaken from his head as quickly as it entered. Children? He could scarcely be touched by the woman without being sent into a frenzy. He didn’t even know her, and he was thinking of a happy little life. And children. He groaned and pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes

Lysander would have laughed at him now, shaming him for thinking with his cock and heart, but no brains. He falls asleep thinking about the possibilities though. Possibilities that could only come if he could meet her again. With a silent prayer to Aphrodite, he hoped that it will be so.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love the idea of Brasidas loving Kassandra immediately.
> 
> cicadaemon.tumblr


End file.
